Fatal Mistake Page 2

  Over the past two months, Rex had single-handedly infiltrated Rocco and Lucky’s drug syndicate. He’d made a number of small drug buys, but he was having difficulty obtaining information regarding their suppliers. Predictably, Rocco and Lucky were very guarded about the finer details of their illegal enterprise. It was hoped that Rocco, an egotistical ladies’ man, might try to impress Lexie with his exploits and therefore be more forthcoming.

  ‘I’m confident you’ll have Rocco wrapped around your finger in no time.’ Rex gave her a mischievous smirk. ‘Though remember, these are not street dealers or thugs. They know what they’re doing. They don’t talk on their phones – at least not the phones we have intercepts on – and they only talk business in Club Hellfire, which is impossible to bug. These guys are not the run-of-the-mill oxygen thieves we’re used to dealing with.’

  Lexie nodded, terrified and exhilarated all at once.

  ‘You have to step carefully, not ask too many questions. We want Rocco to want to impress you, to think he has a chance with you. But avoid being put in a compromising position, where he expects sexual favours. It’s a precarious balance, but I trust you’re up for it.’ Rex sipped his coffee, then placed the mug on the table between them. ‘If you can work with a bunch of red-blooded cops, I think you can probably handle anything.’

  Lexie smiled, trying to convey a confidence she didn’t feel.

  Seeing through her façade, Rex tried to reassure her. ‘You’ll be fine. Just be yourself, so to speak . . . Even though you look nothing like yourself.’

  ‘That’s the whole point,’ Lexie replied, stroking her freshly dyed hair. Having been stationed at Kings Cross – Sydney’s red-light district – for eight years prior to joining Bondi Junction Detectives, Lexie wanted to ensure there was zero chance of recognition. She’d had no previous dealings with their targets but, to be sure, she had dyed her long blonde hair jet black and was using green contacts to cover her brown eyes. She’d also increased her makeup, using lots of black eyeliner and bright red lipstick. She had even changed her wardrobe, begun wearing a lot of black, so she could feel assured that her assumed identity, Rex’s niece Lara Wild, looked vastly different from Lexie Rogers.

  ‘Hmm, your new look may take a little getting used to, but it is remarkable,’ Rex told her. ‘You look very different.’

  ‘You don’t.’

  Unlike Lexie, Rex’s appearance had scarcely altered from their first meeting over a year ago. He was no longer working undercover as a bikie, yet he still had the stereotypical biker look happening: long dark hair pulled into a low ponytail, a greying beard and bushy moustache, weather-beaten skin covered in a variety of tattoos, and the uniform of faded jeans and black T-shirts. At 195 centimetres tall and weighing more than 140 kilos, he was an incredibly intimidating figure.

  Lexie smiled. ‘You’re still scary. And probably in need of a makeover one of these days.’

  Rex feigned offence. ‘I like being scary,’ he said. ‘And why change something that works for me?’ He gave her a wink, then glanced at his watch. ‘That’s enough small talk. We need to make a move. Are you ready to meet some bad guys, Lara? Not nervous, I hope.’

  ‘Why would I be nervous?’ Lexie’s tone was facetious. ‘There’s nothing like the thrill of danger to ignite the senses and get the adrenaline pumping, is there?’ She laughed. ‘Better than a roller coaster really.’

  Rex nodded his big head slowly. ‘Only, with a roller coaster, you’re safely restrained while you experience the thrill of the ride. Working deep undercover is, as you say, an adrenaline rush of sorts but with more risk, less excitement and no guarantees. It can’t be scripted. No one is responsible; nothing is predictable. You can trust only yourself.’

  ‘You’re taking all the fun out of this, Rex.’ Lexie pulled a face at him. ‘You’re meant to be a calming influence, not the opposite.’ She tried to ignore the hand gripping her stomach from the inside.

  ‘I know.’ Rex leant forward on the lounge, looking at Lexie intently. ‘I’m just trying to prepare you. A seasoned UC once said to me: never underestimate your target, their stupidity, or intelligence. Remember, you’re acting as one of them, yet you are not. There lies the greatest challenge: to integrate but remain emotionally removed. To remember the line and not cross it, or forget which side you’re on. Like you, criminals pretend to be something they’re not: a restaurateur, a nightclub owner, a farmer, a businessman. Crooks take risks for a living. Don’t get trapped with feelings of betrayal. They’re being paid big bucks for their illegal activity – that’s their job. Your job is simply to catch them.’

  • • •

  Lexie waited for Rex at their usual meeting place – the wooden bench on the bank of Duck Pond, in the middle of Centennial Park – while he ‘took care of some business’. Resting against the slatted back, she took the time to gather her thoughts and take in the spectacular surroundings in an attempt to avoid over-analysing what lay ahead.

  It was late afternoon and a light breeze offered respite from the humidity of the day. Rays of light flickered through the canopy of branches overhead and birds cast fleeting shadows across a darkening sky. Geese squawked, chasing ducks across the stagnant water, leaving hundreds of tiny ripples in their wake. The bitumen pathway was packed with joggers, walkers, parents pushing prams. Cyclists flashed intermittently between huge oaks and eucalypts lining the roadway. In the distance, a group of horseback riders cantered. A stab of nostalgia tightened Lexie’s chest. Having grown up in the nearby suburb of Bronte, this place reminded her of her childhood, family picnics, happier times.

  ‘Watch out,’ a voice screamed in her ear.

  Her brother’s voice was so clear, so real, goose bumps raced up Lexie’s arms and along her neck. She almost expected to see Lincoln standing behind her. What she did see was a cricket ball, flying towards her. She ducked just in time and it shot over her head so close she heard the whoosh, felt the ball skim a part through her hair.

  ‘Sorry . . . sorry,’ a teenage boy yelled as he ran past to retrieve the ball that had landed just shy of the pond.

  Closing her eyes for a second, Lexie took a deep breath and waited for her heart to slow.

  Lexie had acute intuition, always had, even as a child. But for most of her life she’d ignored it. She was not psychic – that was a strong word; a powerful gift. Her partner, Brad Sommers, teased her about having ‘psycho powers’. She smiled, picturing Brad, a big bloke with twenty-four years’ experience in the job, a brave and formidable force, yet he was scared senseless of the unknown, anything intangible.

  Not that she was completely fearless of the strange and mysterious. There were things she had seen, felt and heard – like, just now, her dead brother’s warning – that she was unable to explain, was hesitant to even contemplate too seriously. In the past, ignoring her internal radar had done her no favours. In fact, it had almost got her killed. So, although Lexie didn’t profess to understand her sixth sense, she had certainly learnt to respect it, and listen to it more carefully.

  Lost in thought, Lexie didn’t notice Rex slip onto the seat beside her.

  ‘You all right?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.’

  Not seen . . . Lexie forced a laugh. ‘Nearly got cleaned up by a cricket ball, that’s all.’

  Rex raised his eyebrows. ‘That wouldn’t have been pretty. You’re no good to us if you have a smashed-up face.’

  ‘Thanks for caring.’ Rex’s curt, hard-love manner always put her at ease.

  The phone in his hand beeped. He checked it, then texted a quick reply.

  ‘Okay, we’re on. Let’s go meet a couple of seedy bad guys.’

  They walked across perfectly manicured lawns towards a large monument resembling a metal pencil shooting high into the sky. Two men in suits stood either side of it and watched their approach. They looked to be exactly what they were, Lexie thought: gangsters. Criminals whose mere presence polluted the park.

>   Rex greeted them like long-lost friends, shaking their hands and then turning to Lexie. ‘This is my niece, Lara.’ Rex placed a protective arm around her shoulder, nudging her forward a little. ‘Meet Lucky and Rocco.’

  Keeping a tight rein on her carefully constructed composure, Lexie smiled and extended her hand towards Lucky. She looked into his eyes. They were black, soulless and even colder in the flesh.

  Lucky didn’t meet her gaze. Instead he looked through her while grunting something that sounded like ‘Hi’. He squeezed her fingers, then swiftly let go as though burnt. His touch turned Lexie’s stomach and sent a shiver racing down her spine despite the heat. Turning away, Lucky coughed, a deep, chunky sound. And then he spat into a tissue.

  Having been warned Lucky was very much the arrogant male chauvinist, his reaction was hardly surprising. Lexie pretended she didn’t notice his indifference and turned to Rocco, the one she needed to impress, to again offer her hand.

  Rocco’s reaction couldn’t have been more different from his friend’s. He took her hand, gently lifted it to his mouth and brushed his lips across her skin without breaking eye contact.

  ‘Don’t worry about him. He gets stupid around beautiful women. And just because he has a cold he thinks he’s dying. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lara.’ Without releasing her hand, Rocco’s pale blue gaze travelled the length of her body. Lexie was suddenly conscious of the jeans that moulded to her long legs like a second skin, the black tank top that probably dipped a little too low across her breasts.

  ‘Rocco’s a charmer.’ Rex gestured with his eyes to her hand still in Rocco’s. ‘He’s used to women falling at his feet, Lara, so be warned.’

  ‘I can see that.’ It was obvious why Rocco was so successful with the opposite sex. He was even better looking in the flesh, full of flirty character, and had the money and power to accompany his other assets. Lexie glanced at Lucky, who looked bored, then back at Rocco. ‘But rest assured, Uncle Rex, I can handle myself around charming men.’

  Lexie gently extracted her hand from Rocco’s firm grip and brushed wisps of long dark hair behind her ears.

  ‘Oh, I like a this one.’ Rocco grinned at Rex. ‘She has spunk.’

  ‘She does,’ Rex agreed. ‘She also has uncanny intuition and a quick mind.’

  ‘I’m standing right here, gentlemen.’ It was imperative she come across as a strong, confident woman, yet one devoid of arrogance – that would not go down well with these guys. In their eyes, it was a man’s world and a pushy woman would only irritate. It was a hard balancing act, but Rex had already won their trust. Now she had to do the same.

  Lexie made small talk, telling them how she’d lived mostly in Queensland, had been a personal assistant until recently, before giving it all up to join her uncle in the ‘family business’. The words rolled off her tongue like a well-rehearsed speech, which was exactly what it was, with a few embellishments added along the way.

  ‘I know I’m new to this business, but I’m not new to the ways of the world. My uncle has taught me well.’ She smiled at Rex, displaying their closeness. ‘I am driven, I’m a fast learner and I like money.’

  Don’t make it sound like a job interview. Like you’re trying to prove yourself worthy.

  Rocco raised his perfectly plucked eyebrows. ‘Beauty and brains . . . now that’s unusual.’

  ‘I wouldn’t think so,’ Lexie said. ‘You must be meeting the wrong sort of women.’

  As Rocco threw back his head and let out a raucous laugh, Lexie noted Lucky check his watch for the second time in as many minutes.

  ‘Is this a bad time?’ Lexie said sweetly.

  Rocco frowned, appearing confused for a moment. ‘No. Why would you—’ He followed Lexie’s gaze to Lucky, who was still staring at his wrist. Aggression radiated on his face. ‘Lucky, don’t be so fucking—’ He turned apologetically at Lexie. ‘Sorry . . . so rude.’ He waved his hand in the air dismissively. ‘Just ignore him. He has no tact.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Lucky apologised quickly, without looking at her. ‘We’re supposed to be at the Assassins’ bike show is all.’ He said this to Rex. ‘I was just checkin’ the time, man. I didn’ mean to be rude.’

  Lexie nodded in acceptance of Lucky’s half-hearted apology. There would be great delight in taking him down.

  Rocco still seemed irritated and shook his head. ‘I’m not going to the bike show, Lucky. I told you that. That’s just a shit fight waiting to happen, don’t you think, Rex? A bunch of pissed bikies spells trouble. I’m staying well clear of that place. We don’t need any negative attention.’

  Lucky didn’t look happy. ‘We were invited, Rocco. We should go to make sure . . .’ He glanced between Rex and Lexie, ran one hand over his thick black hair. ‘We need to check . . . check in with some old friends.’

  Tension shimmered like a heat haze between the men as they drilled angry stares into each other for a long moment. But the conversation went no further. Interesting, Lexie thought. There was a power struggle at play here; they both liked the control.

  Rocco was first to snap out of their silent standoff. Then his face lit up as though he’d just remembered something pleasant, but it took a moment longer for the anger to completely leave his eyes. Lexie sensed Rocco too had a very dark side.

  ‘Hey, I’m having a party tomorrow night at my nightclub. It’s my thirtieth birthday. You have to come. You both must come.’

  ‘Sounds good, free drinks!’ Rex exclaimed.

  Lexie glanced down thoughtfully, as though considering the invitation. ‘Thanks for the invite,’ she replied finally. ‘I’ll check my diary and let you know.’

  A strange expression crossed Rocco’s face. Lexie worried she had gone too far when he roared with laughter again. ‘You are too funny. You will come to my party. You don’t want to know what happened to the last person who turned down a personal invitation.’

  Lexie felt as though she was getting into dangerous ground, but knew she couldn’t back down completely. ‘Actually, I do. What happened to the last person who turned down your invitation?’

  Rocco’s face remained straight as he looked deeply into her eyes and said, ‘I killed them.’

  CHAPTER 3

  Lexie stood in the shower with her eyes closed, letting the warm spray iron out the knots in her muscles and wash away the tension of the day. When she was done, she automatically reached for the bathrobe that hung behind the door. It wasn’t there and it took her a slow second to remember she wasn’t at home.

  She knew this undercover job required a new identity, a new appearance and a new address. Still, her situation suddenly sank in. Her boyfriend, Josh, her partner, Brad, and her best friend, Dani, knew she was working undercover, although they didn’t know the details and she could not disclose her address to anyone other than those who needed to know. Her parents had no idea, and thought she was working at Bondi Junction Detectives’ office as usual. Which was for the best because her mother would freak if she knew the truth. She had lied to her colleagues at Bondi Junction, told them she was on holiday leave. And although she fully understood why everything had to be top secret, it still didn’t sit well. Lexie didn’t lie. Trust was imperative to her, even though trusting others was sometimes a struggle. She suddenly felt unsettled, and very alone.

  You are only one day into this – stop the mind games now. Don’t think too deeply. This is all part of the job and it’s not forever.

  Her phone started ringing and, naked, she rushed across cool floorboards to the master bedroom. She found her personal phone next to the work phone on the bed and answered eagerly. Lexie knew it was Josh without checking the caller ID.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hey, gorgeous, you sound out of breath,’ Josh said. ‘What are you doing and who are you doing it with?’

  Lexie’s mood lightened instantly. Putting the phone on loudspeaker, she slipped into the silky robe strewn across the bed. ‘I ran from the bathroom to get the phone. I just got out o
f the shower.’

  Josh groaned. ‘So you’re naked? That’s so not fair, Lexie. I’m getting a visual and I’m eight hundred kilometres away . . . that’s just plain frustrating.’

  ‘I know.’

  For the past two weeks, Josh Harrison had been in Byron Bay, working on Strike Force Viscount, investigating the cultivation and distribution of illegal drugs – mainly marijuana – in northern New South Wales. It was a sudden secondment as replacement for a sergeant who’d fallen ill.

  ‘How did your first meeting go?’ Josh asked.

  ‘It was good.’ Lexie secured her robe around her waist and sat on the bed. ‘These guys are seriously like something out of Underbelly or The Godfather.’

  Josh listened as Lexie told him about her day: the rigmarole of moving into the new apartment; her make-over; meeting with her new ‘business associates’. She was almost finished talking when she was interrupted by what sounded like a deafening chorus of squawking birds. Lexie pulled the phone away from her ear slightly.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Sorry. I have a cloud of seagulls going crazy around me.’

  ‘Seagulls? Where are you?’ Lexie asked, wishing she was wherever Josh was.

  ‘I’m at the beach. Sorry, I’ll move away from them.’ Lexie imagined Josh’s lean form standing shirtless on a stretch of white sand, a sea breeze ruffling his dark hair.

  ‘Rub it in why don’t you.’

  ‘That’s rich coming from the woman who just told me she was naked.’

  They laughed.

  ‘So how is your job going?’ Lexie asked.

  ‘I must say, I’m already sick of pulling out marijuana plants. We’re locating small crops used for private use and have made some arrests, although the larger plantations all seem to be on Crown land, making cultivation and possession very hard to prove. No one admits to ownership. Funny that!’

  ‘No surprises there . . . And how is your Commander, the lovely Tina Scott, treating you?’

  Josh let out a low moan.